


Why do the stairs move?

by Ivealwayswantedtousethatspell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, Cute, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts, How Do I Tag, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening To Disney Music, Major Original Character(s), Moving Stairs, No Dialogue, One Shot, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Post-Hogwarts, Short One Shot, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24716383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivealwayswantedtousethatspell/pseuds/Ivealwayswantedtousethatspell
Summary: Just a cute little one shot.It's 21st century and we're all depressed as hell, so when the stairs at Hogwarts move on you, you just give up.Until the Queen, Minerva McGonagall, finds you at a ridiculous time in the morning.I got this idea from Instagram, no clue who originally came up with it.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Why do the stairs move?

I’m walking up to the Gryffindor tower from the quidditch pitch, we’ve just won the cup and everyone’s heading up to the common room to celebrate.

Me and my friends hung back a bit, they were hoping the party would already be in full swing by the time they got there, and I was hoping the party would already be over by the time I got there.

Parties really aren’t my thing.

We get halfway up, and my shoelace comes undone, I stop to tie it and my friends don’t notice until they’re on the next set of stairs.

Credit where credit is due, they do actually stop once they realised and it’s not surprising they didn’t notice straight away, as I was walking a little behind them, in the hopes of either stopping time or making it go faster, whichever meant I didn’t have to put up with a ruckus party for the next five – or more – hours.

I’m just standing up, when the staircase I’m stood on decides to move, separating me from my friends, who all groan at the thought of waiting for the stairs to align when all they wanted to do was go to the party.

Why do the stairs move anyway?

It’s not hard to convince them to leave me, I’m not sure what that says about the quality of my friends but here we are.

As soon as they’re out of sight I sit down on a step, bring my knees into my chest and rest my chin on them, gently humming a tune to pass the time.

I know I’m going to be here for a while, not that I really mind; it’s peaceful here, and there is absolutely no point in risking a broken neck hopping onto the next staircase, when I’d prefer to be here than in the common room.

I resigned myself to waiting. No doubt my friends had already forgotten all about me, they are probably already drunk on Firewhisky and shouting along to Weird Sisters music.

As time passes and the castle gets darker, I become numb and the fight leaves my body.

Stairs want to mess with me? Jokes on them, I’ve already given up on life.

I huddle closer within myself, loosing all concept of time and all awareness in my surroundings; I have no idea of I’d been here for ten minutes or ten hours and I really don’t care. I don’t even notice when the stairs align again, the portraits call out, trying to tell me, but I don’t register their cries and eventually they give up.

I don’t feel like I could move anymore, like I don’t have the energy, but it’s weirdly welcome; the fact that I can’t move means I don’t even have to try, I could just stay here forever.

Warm tears make tracks down my cold cheeks, but I don’t have the energy to stop them or even rub them away. I just let them run their course and use the little brain power I have left to try and work out why I’m crying.

Eventually my eyelids become heavy and I slip into a heavy yet disturbed sleep, where parties run riot all around me, but I can’t leave, I can’t even move, and no-one does anything to help me.

Seemingly seconds later, I am awaked by the noise of someone walking up the stairs towards me. I am still huddled up into myself, but I now I feel the cold, both from the dark air around me and from the hard stone under me.

I try to sit up, but I’m stiff and can hardly move. Suddenly I see a silhouette of a person right in front of me and I shout out in fear, my voice raspy. As quickly as I can, I pull out my wand and cast Lumos, only to be greeted by the sight of the Headmistress herself staring down at me.

Knowing I’m about to be in deep trouble, I scramble to my feet best I can with my stiff legs. I then rub at my face, trying to remove the tear tracks that remain and massage some heat into myself.

Strangely, McGonagall says nothing at all, just looks at me with a perturbed expression then beckons me down the stairs and strides off, not quite as quickly as she usually walks.

After walking in silence for a few minutes, I realise where she was taking me, her office. I start to panic, is she going send a howler to my parents? _Expel_ me? Take me into the forbidden forest and leave me there?!

We arrive at a stone gargoyle I had never noticed before, which I presumed to be the guardian of her office. She says something about the Gryffindor house colours, and the statue moves to the side, revealing a spiral staircase that’s slowly moving upwards.

She beckons me to join her on the stairs and then through a wooden door at the top, revealing a room with a huge desk as well as a few armchairs clustered around a fireplace; this is clearly her office.

Sitting in one of these chairs, she motions for me to sit with her, before lighting the fire with a wave of her wand.

Fixing me with a concerned glance that makes me think she is questioning my mental stability (which, let’s be real, I am too) she points her wand at me and I feel a wave of magic that warms me to the core, then she summons a silver tin from her desk. She opens it and hands it to me with a sympathetic smile.

“Have a biscuit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I told you it was short...  
> Hope that was sufficiently cute and angsty for you.  
> And I really hope I did the idea justice :)


End file.
